


Butterfly Effect

by Yoshigali



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, more tags to come, updates will be slow sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshigali/pseuds/Yoshigali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One small action causes big changes down the road. Your textbook example of the good ol' butterfly effect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

A skyscraper collapsed, the air full of broken glass and steel. Shrieking alarms echoed throughout the downtown area, but the squeal of rubber on asphalt drowned them out as Agents Maine, York, and Carolina raced along the highway. They swerved through traffic, civilians desperate to get out of the way of the runaway jeep.

“Team B, report. Team B!” Carolina shouted into her radio, one hand on her radio and the other holding her turret steady.

“Team B is down. We have wounded and are taking fire.” North’s voice was as calm as ever while he relayed their desperate situation.

“Be right there.”

“Negative. Get the package, get it out of the city.”

“Roger that.” Carolina brought her hand back down to the gun in front of her, while York steered them to the top of the overpass the package would soon be crossing under.

Once in position, Carolina gave Maine the signal. The jeep kept speeding down the highway as the agent jumped out of the jeep and off the overpass. Maine hit the hood of the car carrying the package; it swerved wildly as the driver tried unsuccessfully to maintain control of both the package and the steering wheel. Maine raised the weapon he’d found in the vault high into the air, then stabbed down brutally.

He picked up the white briefcase from the passenger’s seat and strolled back to the jeep where York and Carolina were waiting.

“Nice work Maine.” Carolina nodded to an empty seat in the jeep.

He grunted a reply and climbed inside the vehicle.

York rolled his eyes and punched the gas. “Yeah. Subtle as always.” He paused, then added, “The response team should be on its way soon.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here!”

The jeep peeled away, gunships in hot pursuit. Enemy soldiers equipped with jetpacks jumped out, flashes of color in York’s mirrors.

Carolina and York acknowledged the opposition with simultaneous shouts. Carolina spun the machine gun around to shoot behind them, while York shouted apologies to the other drivers he passed. Maine stood in his seat to fire at the jetpack fighters as well.

“Maine, protect the briefcase,” Carolina chastised him, but was interrupted when he suddenly collapsed. “Maine?” Then she saw the solider on the trailer ahead of them. “Sniper!” Another bullet pinged against the turret and Carolina ducked out of the way. “Punch it, York!”

“It’s _punched_ ,” he shouted back.

Someone landed on the hood of the jeep, and Carolina leaped forward to kick him off. She reached to grab the package from Maine’s limp body, but the drop trooper jetted back to the jeep with the same idea. Carolina’s balance was shaky from standing on the front of a moving vehicle, and the blows they exchanged threatened to knock her off entirely. The other solider took the opportunity to seize the briefcase.

Carolina threw him back with a kick and fumbled trying to catch the case out of the air. Suddenly she was slammed off her feet and the case flew into the air once again, only to be caught and strapped to the jetpack of yet another enemy. He stepped forward onto Maine’s back and pointed his gun at the prone agent.

Before he could fire, York jerked the jeep violently to the side, throwing both Carolina and the enemy solider forward onto a trailer full of barrels. The barrels flew off wildly, but York maneuvered quickly around them. The package fell off the jetpack and onto the truck, where it was jumbled with the rest of the cargo. Carolina dove into the mess of barrels and crates, reaching for the package.

An enemy solider emerged from the rubble, the sniper who had shot Maine. Adding to the chaos, he started grabbing barrels off the truck and hurling them at York.

It bounced off the front corner of the jeep and York shouted indignities at the sniper. He swung around and slammed into the truck, jostling the trailer and launching the now awake Agent Maine to land next to Carolina, where the two were quickly cornered by the enemy soldiers.

The Agents fought back-to-back, now in possession of the case, but Maine’s brute force was countered easily by the enemies’ agility. York pulled up next to the truck and tossed Maine’s weapon to the truck, where it was caught by Carolina.

She spun towards her opponent and buried the blade of the weapon into their chest. Carolina kicked the body off the truck, and spun around to find Maine on the ground, the solider he had been fighting standing above him, a pistol aimed directly at Maine’s helmet.

She flew at him, swinging the blade like a sword, a scream of rage in her throat. She missed, and the blow glanced off the truck, but she had prevented any shots from being fired. Fueled by her fury, she kicked and punched with finesse, driving her opponent back and into the sniper standing behind him.

Maine stood and reloaded his weapon with grenades; he shot towards the brawl at the tail end of the trailer. The explosion rocked the truck and threw all four fighters into the air. Carolina reached for Maine as they flew forwards, but couldn’t reach him.

She landed in the jeep once again; Maine wasn’t so lucky. He rolled along the highway, briefcase still secured on his back, until a truck drove into him and knocked him into the air yet again. This time the package separated from his armor to be snatched by yet another drop trooper.

The sharp sound of a motorcycle blared at Carolina’s side. She turned to see Agent Texas roll up on a motorcycle, easily keeping pace with the chase. With the new Freelancer there were, of course, new problems. Several gunships and jetpack troopers flew down the highway following Texas, and by extension, the other Freelancers.

The newest owner of the package flew up to one of the gunships that joined the fray. The ship continued flying down the road, attempting to lose the Freelancers in a tunnel. Tex’s motorcycle pulled up alongside York and Carolina for a moment, then revved up and sped after the package. The gates of the tunnel began to close, an alarm sounding sharply as they did so.

“Don’t let her get it first,” Carolina growled, climbing to her feet and bracing herself on the frame of the jeep.

“Who cares who gets there first?” York responded, still moving quickly to avoid the cars strewn across the road.

“I do!” she shouted back, refusing to take no for an answer. They drew closer to the tunnel and she climbed on top of the frame. “Bail out,” she ordered.

York was happy to comply. “Bailing!” He hit the ground roughly and rolled to a stop. He stood up and brushed the dirt and debris off his armor. “Man,” he muttered, shaking his head, “I’ve got to stop jumping off things.”

Maine sat up, rubbing his bruised head. His helmet had fallen off some time in his various crashed and tumbles, and lay a few feet away. He poked at the bullet wound in his chest and winced.

“Ouch,” he grumbled. He stood up wearily and refastened his helmet. From the sounds of flames and gunfire around him, he wasn’t too far from Team B. He could reconnect with the other team and maybe help them until Niner got there to extract them.


	2. Blood Gulch

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” An armored fist hit a nearby rock. “Freelancers are dropping like flies, and instead of sending me to investigate that, you want me to find Texas.” The name was spit like a curse.

“Agent South Dakota--”

“Just Dakota,” she hissed.

“This is your assignment,” Command continued, ignoring the interruption. “You are being sent to the Blood Gulch simulation outpost in order to investigate Agent Texas’ whereabouts. Any information regarding the Omega AI is also deemed pertinent. Is that clear?”

South scoffed. “Did she lose her fucking AI too?’

“Is that clear, Agent South Dakota?”

South glared and crossed her arms, but ultimately relented. It wasn’t like they could see her anyway. “Understood, Command.”

 

_Many years ago..._

The Freelancers were gathered in the classroom, and the Counselor stood before them. A slideshow glowed on the wall behind him, detailing the different stages of AI stability. The ‘students’ sat in varying states of attention, most with a glazed look in their eyes or fingers tapping the table. Even the AIs present were not attentive; only Sigma and Delta seemed to be even looking towards the front of the room.

Heedless of how effective his lesson was, the Counselor continued. “As you know, an AI in the second stage--”

“If we know it, then why are we here?” South’s patience had hit the breaking point.

Carolina looked over her shoulder to face South. “We’re here because knowing how the AIs function is vital for working with them in the field.”

South snorted, her bangs flying up and around her face. “ _If_ you have one. I _don’t_ , so I shouldn’t be here listening to you and Sigma being the teacher’s fucking pets while he,” she jabbed a thumb in the general direction of the Counselor, “drones on and on about fragments and stability and _whatever_.”

Carolina’s eyes narrowed. “AI maintenance is a mandatory lesson--”

“So why isn’t Texas here? What, is she too Miss-Fucking-Perfect to be taught in here like a kid?”

“South.” North’s voice was direct, and cut off any additions from his sister.

“She has a point.” CT spoke up from the back of the room. “Only agents who don’t need AIs get them, and the rest of us are left trailing behind like lost puppies. We all have to study them, but only a select few actually get to use them.”

The Counselor attempted to regain some semblance of control over his classroom. “That’s not exactly true, Agent Connecticut. In some emergencies or other situations where resources are low, it may become necessary to transfer an AI to a different agent for use. For example, should an agent other than Agent York be injured, Delta and his healing unit would be given to the injured party.

“That is why we teach every Freelancer agent about AIs. It will only slow everyone down to have someone ignorant on the care and maintenance of an AI entrusted with the use of one.” He looked pointedly between South and CT. “Is that clear?”

A chorus of mumbled agreements sounded throughout the room, though CT remained silent.

“Then I believe this will be an excellent breaking point in our lesson. We will pick up from here in the next lesson.”

The agents all stood and began to leave the room; all except Carolina. When she started to move, Sigma motioned for her to stay. She settled back in her seat while Sigma studied the projection that remained on the wall.

A nod from the Counselor gave Carolina responsibility for shutting down the room when she left. The only two in the room, Sigma fiddled with various settings and algorithms, Greek letters floating across the screen seemingly without reason.

Several minutes later, the computations stopped. Carolina looked up at the screen, then her eyes flicked to the AI. “You good, Sigma?”

‘Yes. Thank you for your patience.’

Carolina grunted slightly as she stood; she’d never liked sitting still that long. “No problem.”

A design stayed on the screen, a key composed of Greek letters, until Carolina flipped the switch and left the room.

 

_Now..._

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

South turned quickly, gun already pointed at the voice. A soldier in bright yellow armor stood there, hands on their hips. “Who the fuck are _you_? No one is stationed in this canyon.”

The other soldier snorted. “Stationed? I live here! I even set up a rave and everything!”  
South lowered her gun slightly.

“I’ve got a party every night! Charge five bucks a head, made ten last night, woo!”

“Congratulations. Before this turns into a total waste of time, do you know anything about Freelancer Agent Texas?”

“Tex? That’s the black chick who kept shooting and yelling at us?”

“Sounds like her.”

“That was _hot_.” South coughed, and the yellow soldier continued. “Nah, I don’t know what happened after – wait a minute.” She crossed her arms. “What do you think I am, some kind of narc? I bet you’re a cop, too!”

“Christ, I’m not a cop. I just want to know where Texas is.”

“Prove you’re not a cop and I might tell you.”

South grit her teeth; trying to be civil was the worst part of her job. “Tell me about Texas, and I won’t tell the _real_ cops about your illegal night club on military property.”

“Real cops? What does that make you, a fake cop? A fake cop is still a cop, you _cop_!”

A moment passed, and South raised her gun. “Last chance.” She spoke slowly. “Tell me, and I won’t shoot the living fuck out of you.”

“Oh, gun play, that’s hot.”

South’s finger tightened on the trigger. The other soldier laughed out loud.

“Fine, fine! Tex left on a plane with some guy’s head, but it blew up, so fuck if I know where she is. The dog baby made it out okay though, so there weren’t really many pity bangs, and that sucked.”

South waited for further explanation, some indication that what she just heard was a joke, but nothing came. “You’re fucking crazy.”

The yellow soldier shrugged.

“Texas is gone,” South didn’t say dead, because as much as she hated the bitch, there was no way that some _sim troopers_ could actually kill her, “and you have no idea where she went?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Then this was a waste of time.” South holstered her gun and started walking away. “Tell the cops I said hi,” she added with a flippant wave of her hand.

“You _are_ a cop! Fuck you!” The shouts faded out as South made her way to the other end of the canyon. “This won’t hold up in court! It’s poison fruit!” South rolled her eyes.

Around what she figured was roughly the halfway point between bases, she found a large mound of dirt with a cowboy hat on top. At the bottom was a rock with the words ‘fuck you’ painted on in blue letters, and closer to the bottom, in smaller red letters, ‘red team rules, blue team drools.’

South stared at the dirt pile, perplexed. _What is wrong with these people?_ Deciding to leave that mystery behind her, she continued to the second base. She didn’t get too close before someone literally sprang into view.

“Halt, in the name of the Red--” They had barely spoken before South fired two rounds into their chest on reflex. Instead of cries of pain or collapsing, the figure exploded into wood chips.

“The fuck?”

“What in Sam Hill are you doing?” South turned and saw a red solider pointing a shotgun at her. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to hear someone out before you shoot them?”

She aimed her gun in response. “What are you doing here, private? No one is stationed here.” _Not like that matters, apparently_.

The other solider scoffed. “Private? That’s Sargent to you! And I’m still here because the Blues still have a presence in this canyon. You know what they say, where there’s a Blue, there’s a Red ready to shoot them.” He shifted his feet. “Except my men all abandoned me to fight the good fight alone! Forget what Command says, we can’t call Blood Gulch a victory until every single Blue is wiped off the map.”

“You ignored orders to relocate because there’s still another soldier here?”

“Exactly!”

“And you haven’t gone over and fixed that because...”

“Because who knows what sort of nasty tricks she has up her Blue sleeves! I hear her training every night, with those funky tribal beats.” South arched her eyebrow, forgetting the gesture would go unseen. “Besides! She’s a girl! It wouldn’t be right for me to hurt a girl, even if she is the enemy.”

“What?” South’s harsh exclamation startled him into silence. It took a lot of willpower not to throttle him right then and there; the words _reconnaissance_ and _paperwork_ ran through her head to keep her in check.

The red solider recoiled slightly. “Err, I don’t mean any offense, miss.” South bristled, but begrudgingly let him talk. “But a soldier’s duty is to be chivalrous! I know how dangerous you ladyfolk can get. Agent Texas, now she was a right firecracker.”

South huffed. Better get his attention now before he rambled himself into incoherency. “And do you know where Texas is now?”

“Of course not! She’s a Blue, and it’s not my job to keep track of their whereabouts.” South returned to her _paperwork_ refrain. “Last I know, we Reds nobly detonated her ship when she tried to leave.”

“You blew up Agent Texas? Why?”

“To stop the other Freelancer, of course! He teamed up with Texas and captured the Blue’s freaky lovechild, so I came up with the glorious plan to stop them all from leaving.”

Another Freelancer? Who else had been stationed in this canyon? South almost asked, but quickly realized that the answer she would receive would be both pointless and frustrating. She could just look up who it was later; though there must have been a reason Command hadn’t directed her to the mystery agent first.

Dragging herself back to reality, South realized the Sargent had kept talking the whole time. She stopped him in tracks by inclining her head and crossing her arms. “I’m leaving.”

He grunted his agreement, and South turned to make her way back to her ship.

Blood Gulch hadn’t provided much information, but it did give her a lead: the Blue soldiers that had been stationed there. Talking to them would be her next stop.

 

_Some time ago..._

 

North’s radio crackled to life, breaking the silence of the night. Whoever was on the other end didn’t speak right away, making him suspicious. If they were contacting him directly, they shouldn’t be expecting him to be awake at this hour. Except, North reminded himself, he _was_ awake. Theta murmured an apology, but North dismissed it. Finally, the radio spoke.

“Are you alone?”

North startled. “Texas?” On the list of people he thought would call him, Agent Texas was pretty low. “Yes, I’m alone.”

“Good, lis--”

‘I’m here too!’ Theta chimed in.

Tex paused, then laughed quickly. “Of course you kept Theta.”

“He feels safer with me.” North hoped the shrug he gave her was apparent in his voice.

“Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

North stretched his arms. “So. What do you need?”

“I need your help. I have to find Wyoming.”

He frowned. “Wyoming?”

Another pause while North assumed she nodded into the radio. “He has something of mine, and I want it back.”  
“And where do I come in? You’re not exactly on friendly terms with Freelancer right now.”

“Neither are you.”

North crossed his arms, but otherwise remained silent.

“They must know you stopped South for me,” Tex explained. “I’m guessing they haven’t been too supportive since then.”

“Fine. Let’s say I help you. What do you want me to do?”

“Just keep an eye out for Wyoming. I’m not sure where he’s going. Radio me if you find anything.”

“That sounds easy enough.”

“Also,” Tex cleared her throat, “if you hear anything about erratic behavior in the sim troopers, particularly anything about someone named O’Malley, call me right away.”

“Sure.” North hesitated. “Hey, Tex... do you have Omega?”

“No.” She stayed quiet for a moment. “I tried to kill him.”

Theta shouted immediately, giving North a splitting headache.

“Look, I’d rather explain this one in person. Just, keep an ear out, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sister is not easy to write, I can only hope I did her justice


	3. Trust

_Many years ago..._

 

“I expected it to be bigger.”

York turned to Wash in disbelief. “Why? You’ve seen mine, it’s small too.”

“Yeah, but yours is really shiny so it looks more...substantial.” Wash struggled to explain.

“How does that even make sense?” York shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey, Wash? Quit staring, you’re making it nervous.”

The two Freelancers turned their attention back to North.

“But they’re so small!”

“Yeah, they’re small,” York laughed, one hand on his hip and the other clapping Washington on the shoulder, “but you won’t believe what they can do”

“You better get used to it,” North agreed, “you’re gonna have one of your own soon enough.”

South groaned loudly. “Give me a break.” She stamped her feet loudly as she made her way to the other side of the room.

Damn guys and their fucking dick jokes, getting all over themselves about their AIs. And inducting _Wash_ into their little club when he hadn’t proven himself at all, just trailed behind everyone like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even like North’s new AI was even that impressive; if anything it was even more of a sad puppy than Wash was.

“And that’s my sister over there, South.” North’s statement brought her out of her mental grumbling and back into the conversation. Why was he involving her in this nonsense?

“I have a sister,” Theta replied quietly.

_That_ got her attention. As far as South was aware, all of the AI fragments that Freelancer had were assigned to an agent. If Theta had a sister, then there was one fragment unaccounted for. If she played her cards right, that would be _her_ AI. She clenched her teeth tightly. She shouldn’t even have to play her cards at all to get a fucking AI, it should just be hers, she _deserved_ one.

The Director and the Counselor stepped into the room, and everyone quickly moved to formation to stand at attention, halting both the conversation and South’s train of thought.

North and Theta moved down to the training room, while Delta and the Counselor got the testing protocol up and running. While she wasn’t actively paying attention, South did hear bits of the conversation; most of it seemed to be admonishing Delta for his conversation with Theta, but then South caught a snippet mentioning North’s ‘caring personality.’ She nearly snorted in her helmet. If only they could have seen him when they were kids.

York followed up the Counselor’s statement. “Yeah, he is used to looking out for people, isn’t he?”

South bristled. That was such a thinly veiled comment about her it may as well have been said right to her face. But she swallowed her pride and balled her fists. This wasn’t about her, no matter how they tried to drag her into it. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of an explosion, of knowing they got under her skin in just the right way.

The test went just as she expected; the Director tried to force the pair to slip up, but Theta did his job and somehow impressed Wash and York in the process. Fucking typical.

She stormed out of the room before she had to witness her brother basking in his own fucking glory.

 

_Now..._

 

“Let me get this straight, you’re taking Caboose away from me? And I don’t need to pay you?”

“No,” South shook her head. “I’m just questioning him.” She looked around, scanning the present troops at the Blue base. “Where is he? I don’t want to waste any time.”

The captain jolted. “Of course! Joennes, show her the way!”  
One of the soldiers, presumably Joennes, slumped his shoulders. “Do I have to, sir? I’m sure she can find him on her own...”

South shouldered her gun and turned towards the base. “Why isn’t he out here?”  
A murmur passed through the crowd, and South arched an eyebrow.

“I guess I can point her in the right direction,” Joennes huffed. He walked ahead of her, leading South into the base.

“Good work Joennes! We will always remember your bravery.”

“It’s Jones,” the soldier muttered under his breath. “It’s a common fucking name.”

After a few turns, it became clear to South that Caboose was somewhere unusual. Eventually Joennes stopped in front of...a storage closet?

“He’s in there,” Joennes said finally. “Good luck.”

South reached for the handle, then paused. “What’s going on here?”

Joennes stuttered. “Well, nothing, just, Caboose is a bit...off? I think that’s the word. He talks to all the machines instead of fixing them like he’s supposed to. I’m not sure he even understands how guns work. So, he’s in here for, uh, his own safety.”

South pursed her lips. “Right.” This investigation was constantly getting stranger.

She opened the door and found someone in bright, (outdated) regulation blue armor. He sat on the floor, legs sprawled out in front of him. He perked up when he saw South.

“Hello! You are my new friend! These friends are not nice to me. Not like Church is.”

Joennes’ description was starting to make more sense.   
“Private Caboose, I need you to tell me about Agent Texas.”

“My name is not Private! It’s Michael.” He seemed to search her helmet for something. “We can’t be friends if we don’t know our names.”

“Caboose,” South said with a biting tone, “I need you to tell me what you know about Agent Texas.”

“Umm, right, but Church always tells me not to talk to strangers.”

A long silence fell as South considered how much to play into his bizarre game, and the best way to get what she needed without punching anything, or anyone. Finally, she grit her teeth.

“I’m Agent Dakota.”

Caboose’s wariness evaporated. “You’re a state too, just like Texas and Wisconsin!”

South ground her teeth some more and nodded. “I need you to tell me where Texas is.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. There was a lot of fighting with O’Malley, and then the airplane exploded, _pachew_! And Tex was gone but not the baby and Church yelled a lot but nobody would tell me how the baby got there.”

Well, at the very least, his story seemed to match up with the others’, even if it was basically nonsense. The problem South faced now was deciphering the nonsense. “Do you come with a translator or something?”

 

_Many years ago..._

 

Carolina strode into the meeting room, helmet in her hands and found the Director standing in front of the leaderboard. “Wyoming reported in.”

“And?” The Director hated to be kept waiting, but he also didn’t like people speaking without permission. It was a fine line to navigate.

“You won’t like what he found, Sir.”

“Agent Carolina, information never displeases me.” That was a lie, information he could use, control, _manipulate_ didn’t displease him. Anything else was a nuisance. Carolina fought to keep her thoughts from appearing on her face. “It’s ignorance I find unforgivable. Report.”

“It’s like you thought. CT is with them.”

“You know what to do.” He seemed to pick up on her hesitation, so he continued. “I don’t need to remind you how valuable our technology is.” _In the hands of the enemy_ was the understood end of the sentence.

“She doesn’t have an AI, Sir. And she wasn’t exactly the best agent.” Unspoken pleas to spare CT’s life. Carolina couldn’t directly disobey the Director ( _you can’t get what you want if he’s not on your side_ ) but she could do her best to dissuade him.

“CT will be an acceptable loss. But her armor will not be if it falls into the wrong hands.”

Carolina looked at the ground. “I understand.” She wished she didn’t, that she could argue passionately to save her teammate, her friend, but she couldn’t. She had a mission and empathy played no part in it. “Will my team be the only one sent?”

The Director’s hands hit the table. “Leave personnel decisions to me. Just do your job.”

Carolina’s eyes flicked the leaderboard glowing behind him. Texas’ name still sat just above hers, mocking her.

_You know what to do._

 

_Some time ago..._

Tex closed the door behind her, and North looked up from his seat on the bed.

“Wyoming’s around here?” Tex leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

“It looks like he’s holed up on an island nearby. Theta and I did some scouting already.” At the mention of his name, a purple light flashed at North’s shoulder.

“I’m amazed you found him before I did.”

North chuckled. “Theta and I got a lucky break.” The purple light flickered in and out rapidly.

“Okay, I’ve gotta ask. What’s wrong with your AI?” Tex asked, tilting her head.

With a sigh, North answered. “He doesn’t want to help too much until you tell us what happened with Omega.”

“I did say that I’d explain that, didn’t I?” She sighed. “I already told you that Omega and I weren’t working together. I tried going without him, having him transferred to other people...”

“Right. I remember how he acted in training.”  
“Exactly. Then I got assigned to some sim troopers and he ... took over.” Tex seemed to struggle with her words. “I wasn’t Agent Texas anymore, _we_ were O’Malley. It wasn’t really the first time it had happened either, just, the first time it had been so bad. He was obsessed with killing any and everyone, and I had to put a stop to it.”

“Because killing people is wrong?”

Tex’s gaze flew to North’s face with an audible snap. Even with a helmet in the way, he could almost picture the glare he was receiving; in his mind her eyes had the same intensity as Carolina’s. At least, the Carolina he remembered, not the one after everything that happened. In any case, he’d clearly touched a nerve.

“When you want to hear the story without getting smart with me, be my guest.” Tex pushed off from the wall and headed to the door. “Until then, you know how to reach me.”

She left, closing the door behind her firmly. North fell back on the bed, and a small cloud of dust billowed around him. “That could have gone better.”

‘I still don’t trust her.’

“She just takes some getting used to,” North dropped an arm over his eyes and sighed. “I’m sure that’s all.”


	4. Connecticut

_Many years ago..._

 

The Pelican jolted when Niner fired the engines and cancelled their freefall. York threw a glance around the hold, silently agreeing with the other Freelancers to a course of action. At least, that’s what he assumed was happening; helmets made it very hard to tell someone’s expression. The plan was a simple one, but one the Freelancers did best – jump out and charge forward, guns blazing. And that’s exactly what they did as soon as the hatch door fell open.

Using jump jets, the Freelancers landed on the pier in the middle of the action. Insurrectionists stood before them, totally shocked by the force that appeared. Carolina, show-off that she was, instead used her gravity-boots and speed unit to push off from an inside wall of the Pelican to blast forward. She landed on her feet and immediately threw herself forward, running through the Insurrectionists and gunning down anyone to get in her way.

She didn’t make it very far before the Insurrectionists began an attack of their own; two Warthogs skidded into view. One shot a rocket into the middle of the assembled Freelancers, forcing them to scatter to avoid the blast.

That didn’t stop Carolina, because she sped forward, jumped off the windshield of the Warthog ahead of her and used the momentum to vault onto the second level of the warehouse.

The Dakota twins took shelter behind a shipping container on the left of the Warthogs, while York and Maine hid behind a container on the right. North shoved South behind him with a shout, and started a covering fire against the jeeps. York and Maine took the opportunity to run forward, shooting as they went. Blindsided by the occupants of the second Warthog, York was hit in the stomach by a grenade, thrown backwards and hitting the storage container with a groan. Maine kept moving, grabbing the fender of one Warthog and stopping it in its tracks.

South shot the driver of the stopped Warthog, and grabbed the frame with her free hand. She jumped and kicked the body out of the driver’s seat, and sat herself behind the wheel in one motion. The other Warthog fired at Maine -- glancing blows at best -- before South made short work of that Insurrectionist as well. The threat of the jeeps dealt with, the four Freelancers continued forward, deeper into the hideout.

_“All hands topside. We are under attack. This is not a drill!”_

A tinny voice over the intercom system let Carolina know that their presence had been noticed by the Insurrection leader, a fact that she could have assumed given the amount of resistance she was meeting. Such as the snipers who were keeping her pinned behind a shipping container, where her energy pistols were woefully out of range.

York peeked around the corner, stationed himself behind cover and near enough to Carolina to get her free of the snipers, and signaled for Maine to stay behind him. “Looks like we made it just in time. Wait for my mark.”

Maine responded with a disgruntled sigh, but didn’t object.

Another sniper stepped up with the others, their armor clearly different from the rest. “What have you got for me?” Carolina muttered under her breath, just before a round clipped against her cover, dangerously close to where her head should be. She rolled to the other side, still behind the container. “Alright boys, me first.”

Leaning just barely out of cover, Carolina lobbed a grenade towards the sniper group, only for it to be shot down halfway across the gap.

York and Maine took the grenade as the signal to advance, and were immediately fired upon by yet another Warthog. “Nope, no, no, no, nope!” York shouted, attempting to drag Maine back into cover.

The snipers didn’t let Carolina catch a break either, as she was pinned behind cover, unable to make a move without being shot several times over. Even with the speed unit in her arsenal, she wasn’t going to risk one of the Insurrectionists getting a lucky shot. “North, we’re pinned down over here. I need you to take them out.”

“What is he gonna do from all the way...wherever he is,” York grumbled over the com, but he and Maine were helpless to do anything themselves. Or York was, because he imagined Maine probably wouldn’t mind getting hit a few times on the way. Too bad for Maine; York didn’t want the other agent to be riddled if Carolina (and possibly North) could handle it for them.

For his part, North was stuck behind a Warthog with South, using it as cover against a torrent of bullets. He sat back against the jeep, finger to his com, and let South handle their own situation. “I can’t get a line of sight from here, but I might have a way to contain them.”

“Just do it!” Carolina shouted, fed up with the situation. The faster she could get past these Insurrectionists, the faster she could get to CT, the faster she could _prove yourself_.

The tone of her voice brokered no dissention, so North prepped his weapon. “Theta, I’m putting up a Hail Mary. I need you to guide me.”

‘Okay!’ The AI hopped into view. He was so excited to be of help that he couldn’t stop bouncing.  
North backed up a few steps and hefted the shield unit. “They say the best offense is a good defense.” He hurled the unit through the air, letting it soar over the buildings in front of him as Theta directed it into position.

South rolled her eyes, “That is so fucking corny.”

Her brother shrugged and returned to their shared cover.

The bubble shield landed smack in between the snipers facing Carolina, much to their surprise. It deployed, containing them within the glowing ball. For the most part, they seemed incapacitated, but one brave solider stepped forward, SMG in hand. What could have been a shot to free them instead ricocheted off the shield and pierced right through his skull. As he fell, his finger tightened on the trigger, and bullets sprayed all over the area. The shield was quickly covered in blood, and then retracted just as the last Insurrectionist hit the ground.

“So,” North asked over the com, “did I get them?”

Carolina grimaced. “Yeah, North, you got them.”

North nodded to the AI on his shoulder. “Thanks for the help Theta.”

York turned to Maine. “That was brutal.”

“York, we’re moving, can you handle it from there?” North and South moved forwards from their position.

“Handle it?” He scoffed. “Sure. I mean, I nearly got blown up a minute ago, and now I’m paired with the squad’s personal force of nature. Sure, we can handle it.”

Maine tilted his helmet to question York.

“Dude, you’ve got so much muscle it’s scary.” York had barely finished his statement when a fist suddenly connected with his helmet, sending him flying.

A stoutly built Insurrectionist sauntered into the space York had previously occupied, and with an audible snap his helmet connected with Maine’s. The Agent staggered, but to his credit did not fall. Instead Maine struck back; a fist colliding with the Insurrectionist’s gut and a spinning kick rose to hit his helmet.

York struggled to stand while this fist fight broke out. His shook his head a few times, trying to clear the stars from his vision. As soon as he stood, the Insurrectionist pushed Maine bodily away with a shove, and pulled out a grenade launcher. “Okay, uh, maybe we can’t handle it.”

Carolina glanced over to the other Agents in time to see an explosion blow them off their feet. This time York rolled to his feet quickly, and it almost appeared that Maine had never stopped standing. Out of the corner of her eye, the previously immobile Warthog revved to life.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she said, about to spring into action.

_You need to find CT._

She was already jumping, hitting the gunner square in the chest with her boots and knocking them out of the jeep. “They need my help.” The words were sure, but her voice held doubt. Doubt that this diversion was already slowing her down, that the wasted time would let _Texas will beat you there._

_Leave them. Find CT._

“I’m not abandoning them!” Her shout was clearly heard by everyone; not just to those in the vicinity but the Agents on the com as well. There were a few mumbles in reply, nothing distinct but all clearly worried, and Carolina didn’t have time to decipher them or even say anything else before she was pushed back by the Insurrectionist.

She landed in a crouch, and launched herself back at him, using her speed unit to hit him before he could even register an attack. Carolina knocked him over with tremendous force, and quickly shot him full of holes with her pistols. With that problem dealt with, she could go back to finding CT. She sprinted off, ignoring the driver of the Warthog who futilely attempted to hit her with his shotgun. York and Maine could handle it from here, right?

In the meantime, Insurrectionists kept pouring out of the woodwork faster than Maine could take them down. York tried to help as best he could, but for some reason he kept losing both his footing and his gun. The latest cause for his butter-fingers might have been the runaway Warthog that was spinning wildly around the area – although it was technically controlled by an Insurrectionist, it certainly didn’t seem that way.

It was when the Warthog set its sights on Maine and barreled towards him that he finally got to show off his forte: brute strength. Instead of a crunching impact, Maine gripped the fender of the jeep and _pushed._ The wheels spun against the ground, but had no traction; all that happened was Maine’s feet sliding backwards a few feet. The Warthog ground to a stop, and Maine used his skill as a ‘force of nature’ to flip the jeep completely upside down, then kick it with enough strength that it slid into the remaining Insurrectionists, toppling and disarming them.

“What did I say Maine? It’s scary!” York jogged up to stand next to Maine, hands securely on his gun. The other Agent just shrugged.

When the last two Insurrectionists stood, the Freelancers were ready for them. One of the Insurrectionists had a mechanical left arm, the other wore specialized armor emblazoned with a heart. Aside from the fact that these two were the only Insurrectionists left facing York and Maine, their appearances certainly made it clear that these were no ordinary soldiers.

The soldier with the cyborg arm charged Maine, reeling back the metal arm for a punch that connected with Maine’s helmet and left his head spinning.

The other hefted a knife and threw it directly at York; he lifted his own weapon up in time to prevent the knife from slicing into his face. Unfortunately his gun was now a mess of metal and sparks; it couldn’t function anymore with a knife sticking out the middle of it.

“Damn it, I just got this thing!” He lobbed it at the knife-thrower, but they deftly dodged out of the way.

The other Insurrectionist and Maine were locked in a fierce hand-to-hand fight; where Maine was physically stronger, the Insurrectionist was much faster, and their strength was nothing to laugh at either, aided by the mechanical arm. It seemed like a stalemate.

Without his gun, York opted to kick his opponent, but they blocked his leg with the blade of another knife. It glanced off York’s armor without doing much damage, but served as a reminder that the solider in front of him was still armed while all he had were his fists. The Insurrectionist flipped a knife into the air and caught it in a reversed grip, one knife in each hand. Where was Carolina when you needed her?

“Hey, twins! We could use some--” York ducked under yet another swing of the knives. “Some help over here! You have another Hail Mary?”

_Agent York, relying on luck, particularly from another Agent is inadvisable._

“Yeah thanks D,” he narrowly blocked an attack on his right, and attempted to rebound into a blow to the Insurrectionist’s head but that was likewise blocked. “Unless you’ve got a better idea, let me do my thing.”

A particularly powerful kick pushed Maine away from the Insurrectionist, and he rolled on the ground into a crouch. This was perfect, a little distance was all he needed. He reached for the Bruteshot holstered on his back and launched a grenade at the other solider.

Quick on the uptake, a mechanical arm grabbed the explosive out of the air, and with a twist threw it right back to the Freelancer. It exploded at Maine’s feet, but just a moment later he emerged from the smoke and charged straight towards the Insurrectionist, the blade of the Bruteshot raised high. It slashed down and neatly sliced the mechanical arm clean off.

The Insurrectionist screamed in something akin to pain. “My robot arm! You bi--”

His curse was cut short by Maine bodily shoving him over the edge of the pier. Without the added weight of his metal arm, and because of the surprise of being caught off his fee, the Insurrectionist went flying out into the water.

Maine gave the vanishing form a brief nod, then turned to see how his companion was faring. York had yet to finish off the Insurrectionist he was dealing with, and was the worse off of the two. There were cuts and slashes across his hands and legs; anywhere that wasn’t covered by gold armor was starting to be smeared with blood. Neither combatant seemed to notice that Maine was no longer fighting anyone, so he was able to simply walk up behind the Insurrectionist, wrap his arms around their waist and pick them up.

Shock, more than anything else, kept the knife-wielder from fighting back. After the surprise passed, their limbs flailed wildly, attempting to slam into Maine. An elbow hit his side, but Maine didn’t flinch, and instead started walking towards the end of the pier, Insurrectionist in tow. Their head snapped back in a makeshift head-butt, and although the two helmets collided with a loud snap, Maine kept to his course.

When he reached the edge, there was a moment where the Insurrectionist didn’t move, realization dawning on them. Then, swiftly, Maine used all his strength to throw them over the edge and into the water. The Insurrectionist fell with a scream, silenced when their body was engulfed by the sea.

A moment later the discarded robotic arm followed suit. “And fuck you too!” York shouted, before collapsing onto the ground. Exhaustion mixed with the blood loss was starting to get to him.

Maine stood over his friend, arms crossed and let York breathe heavily. He extended a hand, then helped York to his feet. “Rest later.”

York laughed shakily. “Force of nature man, I’ll keep saying it.”

Maine let out a chuckle, and the two went to see what the rest of the Freelancers were getting up to.

 

Florida watched from the rafters as CT and another Insurrectionist, presumably the leader, walked across the warehouse towards a bunker at the opposite end. They were followed by two other soldiers, each armed with a massive mini-gun. A speedy blur and the sound of rushing wind startled everyone in the room, and got CT and the leader to turn around. They both looked around cautiously, the former Freelancer with guns at the ready.

Although nobody saw the true cause of the disturbance, Florida was leaned far enough out from his hiding spot that he could be seen by his enemy.

The Insurrection leader nodded to CT and pulled a hatchet from behind his back. He hefted it in his hand, and with a smug “Catch!” let it fly to sink into Florida’s shoulder.

Florida toppled off the catwalk and landed face down on the concrete, pushing the axe further into him.

“Surprise.” With a chuckle the leader turned back to CT. “We’ve got company coming,” he waved to the two with mini-guns, “cut them down.”

The barrels started spinning and the two laughed in a manner best described as comically evil. They sprayed bullets up and down the walkway, and into the rafters where Florida had been hiding. When the noise died down and the barrage stopped, there were no new Freelancers in sight.

“Hold this position.”

The two nodded in response to their new orders, though they were obviously disappointed to not have hit anyone in the earlier attack.

That was when Wyoming stepped out of his cover, sniper rifle trained on the Insurrection leader, and fired. His shots ricocheted off the mini-guns, missing their mark.

The Insurrection leader leapt out of the way, calling out an order to “mow them down,” as the two Insurrection soldiers resumed their assault. He and CT hurried back towards their destination.

Carolina, crouched behind a crate, leaned forward, gauging the distance between her position and her opponents. Any time she tried to make a move, a stray round would glance off the ground next to her feet. She cursed and slammed her fist against the crate. Even with the speed unit she couldn’t guarantee making it across without being hit. She’d missed her window to get to CT, at least for now.

“Hello Carolina,” Wyoming called out, not missing a beat. “When did you get here?”

“Wyoming, I need you to move up and cover me.”

“Ah, skipping all the pleasantries, are we?”

“Move. Up.”

“With all due respect, I’d much rather not be killed.”

Carolina exhaled sharply and ground her teeth. “Fine, then just cover me from back there.”

“Now Carolina, can’t we find a better plan than--”

He was cut off when something blurry and very fast moved past the two Freelancers.

_Texas._

Carolina was immediately on the move, sprinting towards the end of the warehouse. “Cover me!” Aided by Sigma, she used the speed unit in short bursts to not only avoid being hit but also to catch up to Texas.

Torn between two equally difficult targets, the Insurrectionists aimed wildly and failed to hit either Freelancer.

Once past the obstacle of the mini-guns, both Carolina and Texas took off down the hallway to the bunker where CT was hiding.

The distraction gone, Wyoming found the attention was once again focused on him.

York and Maine entered the warehouse shortly after, Maine crouching behind cover and York helping the injured Florida to his feet.

“Hello chaps! You’ve just missed our dear Carolina and her good friend Tex.”

York’s helmet snapped to stare at Wyoming. “Texas is here?”

The sniper nodded in response.  
York shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Don’t forget who you’re fighting Carolina.”

 

Carolina and Tex waited by a closed blast door, staring each other down. It was surprisingly effective, for all that both glares were hidden behind the visors of their helmets.

Carolina started to move, but Tex stopped her. “Quiet, that room is guarded by turrets.”

Carolina scoffed. “I can get past them.”

“If there was a way to do it, _I_ would have already done it.” Tex’s voice was firm.

Carolina stood. “Don’t forget the objective. We’re just here to retrieve the armor.”

“Carolina, I know what the fucking objective is,” Tex followed suit.

The door opened and Carolina darted in, using her speed to avoid being tracked by the turrets. Aiming and firing quickly, she hit the weak points of the automated defenses and shut them down. With sparks flying from the joints of the turrets, alarms and red lights started blaring and flashing.

Regaining her composure, Carolina stood with Tex in the doorway of the room, pistols trained on CT and the Insurrection leader. “Looks like you’re out of time.”

CT stared at the two Freelancers. “Carolina. And... _you._ ”

Tex stepped forward. “CT, you have something that belongs to Project Freelancer. And you know how the Director hates to share.”  
“You two are fools!” CT kept her posture nonthreatening. “The Director is playing you, don’t you see it?”

“CT, stop it,” Carolina spoke up. “We know you’ve been feeding intel to the Resistance for months.”

Nearly forgotten where he stood, hands in the air, the Insurrection leader laughed. “Is _that_ who he told you we are?”

“They’re not the enemy, Carolina. We’re the one working outside the rules, not them.” CT looked at the ground. “You don’t know what the Director has done.” She looked back up to face Carolina. “He’s broken major laws. When this war ends, we’re all going to pay for his crimes...maybe some of us already are.”

Tex jolted forward, straightening her aim. “You need to stop talking, CT.”  
“No.” CT’s voice held confidence, and she pointed a finger straight at Tex. “I know what you are, Tex. And I won’t take orders from a _shadow_.”

Tex’s pistol lowered, “what did you call me?” There was too much doubt in her words to be mistaken for mere curiosity.

Carolina called the attention back to herself. “You’re coming with us, CT. This is your last chance.”  
She shook her head. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Actually, we don’t need you.” Tex’s voice regained its icy cool. “We just need your armor.” She shot at CT’s head, who narrowly dodged, and darted forward, leaving a hologram in her wake.

CT took Tex’s surprise as an opportunity to grab her arm, twist behind her and sink a knife in Tex’s back. She pushed Tex forward to stumble into the Insurrection leader, already swinging an axe and embedding it in her chest; Tex sunk to the ground. He then used the momentum to fling another hatchet towards Carolina, who spun out of the way and behind a wall.

When she tried to leave the cover, CT was on her, in her face and leaving a trail of holograms behind her. With Carolina caught aiming that the illusion, the real CT took her chance, grabbed Carolina’s wrist and twisted the pistol out of her grip.

Already reacting, Carolina whipped out her stun baton and slammed CT away from her. Knife in hand, CT launched herself into another attack, but Carolina blocked deftly with the baton. The two were locked in combat, neither able to get in a blow.

Tex was back up and fighting, grabbing the Insurrection leader and suplexing him and delivering a kick to his head when he bounced off the ground. He came back swinging, but Tex blocked him every time.

Carolina got in a lucky blow, but CT came back with a well-placed foot to her chest; no one in either pair seemed to be able to gain the upper hand. Each swing from Carolina and CT got faster and faster, and finally CT somersaulted out of the way, leaving behind a hologram for Carolina to swing ineffectually into. The Insurrection leader broke off from his fight with Tex to take his shot at Carolina, but with her speed he didn’t stand a chance. She kicked him back towards Tex, who reeled back and delivered a devastating punch to his head. Tex picked up one of his axes, feeling the weight in her hands.

Back to fighting CT, Carolina knocked the knife out of her hands, and quickly dodged the blade on its way towards the ceiling. Tex swung the hatchet at CT and it landed firmly in her chest. CT stumbled back, struggling to stay on her feet. Picking up another axe from the ground, Tex threw it at the recovering CT. Blood sprayed as the blade embedded itself deep in her armor, and CT feel to her hands and knees.

Carolina grabbed Tex’s shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Completing our objective,” she shrugged Carolina’s hand off of her.

“By killing our objective?”  
“ _She_ is a traitor. The armor is our objective.”

Limping and bleeding, the Insurrection leader slung CT over his shoulder and used the argument between the Freelancers as his opportunity to get into the escape pod. The door closed behind him with a hiss, and then they were gone.

Both Freelancers started forward when they heard the noise of the pod, but it was too late.

“Damn it!”

“That’s on you,” Tex insisted. “So I guess you can explain how we lost a full suit of armor and failed to capture the leader of the Resistance.” She turned away and activated her com. “Command, we need extraction now.”

“Read you loud and clear, Texas. Clear me an LZ and get ready for pickup.”

Tex was on her way out of the room when Carolina found her voice. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, _Texas_ , but you’d better learn your place.”

CT was Carolina’s responsibility, it was her job to bring her back _at all costs_ , not Texas’. And it certainly wasn’t Texas’ job to kill CT, it was _your chance to prove your worth to the Director._ How was Carolina supposed to reclaim her throne with Texas thwarting her every step of the way, stealing her glory, her _kills_. This was going to sit and fester in the back of her mind and bother her until she found the solution, a way to _prove what you’re capable of_.

For the time being, she needed to get to the landing zone for extraction. It was going to be a long and silent ride back to the Mother of Invention.


	5. Clues

_Now..._

 

South and Caboose walked up to the Blue Base. There was no one in sight and a gaping hole in one of the walls. Maybe everyone here had already been taken out by the Reds in the area, making this lead pointless, and South could declare Caboose a dead end and be rid of him.

“Are you sure this is where he is?”

“I think so. When we got our new orders he tried to hide his from me. I said it was like a game of hide and seek! He said that was right, and the only way for him to win was if he died without me finding him.”

“Sounds like a great friend,” South rolled her eyes. Caboose nodded enthusiastically, so she guessed he didn’t catch her sarcasm. “And you’re sure he knows where to find Texas?”

“Of course he does! They used to date but now they just yell at each other.”

He used to date _Texas_? Was that even humanly possible?

Her train of thought was cut short when a gunshot rang out, and the dirt next to Caboose’s feet exploded into a cloud of dust.

A voice called out from the distance, “Fuck, okay, that was your one warning shot. The next one’s going right between your eyes.” There was a sniper somewhere, hiding in the ruins of the base.

South’s training kicked in, and she quickly moved towards cover. Caboose on the other hand, stood stock still. “Wait a minute...”

The voice of the mysterious sniper was heard once again. “All right, I warned you! Sayonara bitch!” The sniper fired again, this round whizzing past Caboose’s head to land behind him. “Oh come on! What the fuck?”

Caboose bounced on the balls of feet. “I know that voice. Church! Church, it’s me! Your all-time very best friend!”

“Caboose?” The voice of the sniper was equal parts confused and surprised. “How did you find me?” Each word was punctuated with another shot from his rifle. None of them hit Caboose, but they did pepper the ground in his general vicinity. “Shit, I missed!” Finally he emerged from cover, pale blue armor at the highest point of the base.

“Aww Church, I missed you too!” Caboose spread his arms wide, as if he was trying to hug the solider standing atop the wall.

As heartwarming as this reunion was, South had a job to do. She stepped out of cover, trying her best to appear nonchalant, crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

Church turned his head at the sound, finally ceasing his pointless barrage against Caboose. “Who the fuck are you?”

Caboose slung an arm around South’s shoulders; she practically jumped from the contact. “She’s a state lady!”

The gun in Church’s hands steadied just enough to be noticed. “You’re a Freelancer?”

“Agent Dakota.” She wormed her way out of Caboose’s grasp. “Caboose says you can help me find Agent Texas.”

“You guys are looking for Tex?” Church’s voice wavered slightly. “I thought she died in the crash.”

South snorted. “You’d think being in the burning wreck of a Pelican would kill her, but no, we didn’t find a fucking body.” A beat passed, like the two blue soldiers were expecting her to follow up with something else. “What, did you think she’d leave behind a note?”

“No,” Caboose replied, “We just thought you’d see the ghost, you know, since--”

One more shot rang out, and the dirt next to Caboose’s feet burst into a cloud of dust. “Just wondering if she left any clues. That’s all.”

“Clues? If we had anything like that, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

Church threw his arms into the air. “Why are you here at all? I figured you fancy Freelancers would be able to do this job on your own.” South bristled at his remark, arms crossed even tighter than they were before.

“I’m here because I need to find Agent Texas and for some fucking reason, Command thinks you might be able to do that.” A silence settled over the group, as if the blue soldiers were yet again waiting for elaboration. “Look, can’t you just come down here and talk to us? All this yelling sucks ass.”

Church laughed. “Yeah. Right. I’ll just let a complete stranger waltz right into my secure and confidential base.”

South glanced to the side of the wall, at the gaping hole lined with rubble and debris. “Or I could go through there and just grab you myself.”

A bitter frown was almost audible from Church. “Fine. I’ll just open the gate then.”

When he disappeared from view, Caboose shouted after him. “Thank you Church!”

The gate eased open just a few moments later, and South and Caboose walked into the base. It was very empty, hardly any signs of life or even other teammates were visible. South glanced around, taking it all in. “Is it just you out here?”

“Huh?” Church was distracted, trying to peel Caboose off of him instead of returning the monstrous hug. “Oh, yeah. Just me. Unless someone’s hiding out there, in which case they should stay hiding, because I don’t want to deal with them.” Having extricated himself from Caboose’s arms, Church turned his attention to South. “So, why are you looking for Tex anyways? Isn’t she a Freelancer like you?”

South couldn’t help raising an eyebrow, although the gesture went unseen. “You didn’t hear? Your sweet little Texas went rogue.”

“She did what?”

“Tex is not sweet. She is spicy.”

Church and Caboose spoke at the same time, each drowning the other out.

“Oh my god Caboose, she’s not a food.” Church slapped a hand to the front of his helmet. “Look, Agent ... Dakota, I don’t want to help you. But I do want to find Tex, so I guess I can work with you. For now.”

“Good enough for me.” South turned to leave, already halfway to the gate when the Blues hastened to follow her. “Where are we going first?”

“Huh?” Church’s helmet snapped up to stare at South’s back. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my only lead right now, genius.”  
“Church is very smart! He always has the right plan.” Caboose’s long legs quickly caught up to South, and soon Church was left trailing behind.

“Right. Well, I guess we should go check out the crash site one more time. There’s some stuff I want to check out, so it couldn’t hurt.”

South rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say. That’s where we’ll go first.”

 

_Some time ago..._

North and Tex stood side by side on the shore of Wyoming’s island. How did someone like him even have an island fortress? It almost seemed like something out of a cartoon. Theta seemed to agree, because North could feel him getting worried in the back of his mind.

“Just to be sure, I’m covering you while you look for whatever it is Wyoming took from you, right?” North adjusted his grip on the sniper rifle in his hands.

Tex just nodded in response.

“And you’re not going to tell me what that something is, are you?”

She shook her head. “All I’m saying is that Wyoming probably has it on him. So we’re not getting out of this without running into him.”

North laughed. “Fantastic.”

The pair made their way up the beach and into the building. Concrete walls surrounded a courtyard, and the only door leading further inside was covered with a clearly visible holographic lock.

“Well,” North said, “I can’t say I’m surprised. It’d be too easy otherwise.”

Tex poked at a few of the buttons, then grumbled in frustration.

“Breaking locks not your specialty?”

“Not unless you want the door smashed and alarms going off.”

He holstered his rifle on his back. “Alright, let me and Theta take a crack.”

_I don’t like this. Hacking locks is wrong._

North shook his head and kept at it, pressing buttons and spinning dials. “I know, Theta. But the reason we’re doing this is good, so it’s okay.”

Tex scoffed. “Did I stumble into a ‘very special episode’ or something?”

North startled, he had nearly forgotten Tex was even there. “Oh, was I talking to myself?” Theta’s lights flashed in and out of sight at North’s shoulder.

Tex hummed an affirmative.

“Sorry, I guess I’ve been on my own for long enough I don’t notice it anymore.”

Tex shrugged. “It’s not a problem. Just funny.”

He turned back to the lock, Theta pointing out what he should be doing. “Hey, Tex.”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’re the frontlines, do you want to borrow my shield attachment? I know it won’t be as effective without your own AI, but...” He trailed off when he looked over his shoulder and saw Tex staring at him in silence.

“Keep it. I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Just open the lock.”

_You made her angry._

North nodded, but didn’t respond to Theta. A minute of tense silence later and the lock’s display dissolved into pixelated light. “There you go.”

Tex placed a hand on his shoulder as she passed him on her way to the doorway. “Hang back and let me handle things.”

North stared at her hand, struggling to keep surprise and confusion off of his face, even if she couldn’t see it. “Right. That’s what snipers do best.”

She laughed a little, a small quiet thing. “Yeah, I guess so.” She stepped forward and through the doorway, leaving North and Theta behind.

_That was weird._

“You said it, buddy.”

_Now..._

 

“Recovery One, this is Command. Please respond.”

Maine rolled his shoulders then radioed back, stretching his arms. “Recovery One.”

“Nice to hear from you, Recovery One.” It wasn’t often that Command let emotion color her voice, but sarcasm was her favorite exception. “There’s another beacon we need you to investigate. Sending the coordinates to you now.”

Maine narrowed his eyes. In all the time he’d been a Recovery unit, there had never been as many beacons as in the last few weeks. All of them belonged to agents dead long before Maine was able to respond to the distress signal. The fallen agents had something else in common as well.

“As always, should the agent be lost, recovery of any Freelancer tech or Artificial Intelligences is your priority.”

Which is what those agents shared – a distinct lack of tech for Maine to recover. It was almost enough to make him believe someone else was doing his job. The more likely answer was that who- or whatever was killing the Freelancers knew what they were doing. As surely as Command knew more than they were letting on, Maine wouldn’t ask. He was a solider after all, and his was not to question why.

When Maine found the latest victim of the mysterious killer, he was shocked. Washington’s body lay face down on the ground, and his helmet sat some feet away, as if it had been thrown aside. _He never took his helmet off, not if he could help it. He’d even tried leaving it on to eat_. The back of Washington’s head was a bloody mess, and there was no smooth metal of an AI implant. As far as Maine knew, Wash had kept Iota even after South had adamantly given up the Eta AI.

Although the situation made Washington’s condition clear, Maine had to be sure. He didn’t want his last memory of Wash’s face to include flat eyes and splatters of blood, but there was little choice if Maine was going to do his job properly. He gripped the other agent’s shoulder and turned him over slowly. Washington’s eyes were glazed and his jaw was slack, his head lolling slowly from the movement of being turned over. Maine put two gloved fingers to the other’s neck, searching for a pulse to deny what had to be true.

After a long moment, Maine stood and turned on his radio.

“This is Command. Please report, Recovery One.”

“Washington. KIA.” He kept as much remorse out of his voice as possible. Wash may have been a kid, but he was as much a solider as Maine.

“And the Iota AI?” Command’s question was immediate. She had barely heard what had happened, but already she made clear what was more important.

“Missing.”  
“Understood.”

Maine stayed on the line, mulling over what had been said and unsaid.

“Recovery One? Is there anything else to report?”

“No.” Any question he may have had for Command wilted. No matter what was happening or what Command was keeping from him, he would continue to operate as directed. He was a solider after all, and theirs was but to do and die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to post this for a long time.


End file.
